


My True Love Gave To Me

by aimmyarrowshigh, pinkalldaypinkallnight



Category: Stereo Kicks (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, M/M, Wedding Fluff, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/pseuds/aimmyarrowshigh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkalldaypinkallnight/pseuds/pinkalldaypinkallnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fifth day of Christmas dawns grey and cloudy, but it's meant to snow later, so Barclay's optimistic about his chances for a snowy proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My True Love Gave To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fits into **pinkalldaypinkallnight** 's Diner'verse AU.

It's probably a good thing that Charlie has known Tom his whole life, otherwise it would be difficult for the rest of the boys to explain to him just how seriously Tom and Barcs take Christmas. About a day after Halloween, the diner exploded into red, green, and gold glitter. Tom has been so insistent on this “12 Days of Christmas” promotion that all of the boys feel like they're going to turn into pine trees.

Now the day has come: the 11th of December. 

"Feels more like the Ides of March," James mutters as the six employees congregate in the big booth for morning meeting.

Reece is impressed that James knows that reference.

 

**On the first day of Christmas…**

"Alright, you lot. This is what's happening. I've got each of our personalized hats here, and your outfits are in each of those bags. Go ahead and put them on now, you've each got two pair of trousers and two shirts so please wash them. Please." Tom sounds a little bit like he hadn't considered how unlikely it is that they'll actually do the wash until now, and Chris stifles a laugh.

Tom does not laugh. Instead he fixes Chris with a contemplative look. "Would you be willing to bleach your beard?"

"Bleach my... Tom, mate, don't you think you're maybe taking this a little far?"

"Chris. Don't be silly. We're just getting into the holiday spirit, and to be frank, it's quite disappointing that you don't seem to be very festive at all," Barclay responds, looking put-out.

Chris looks down at his red, green, and gold sweater emblazoned with snowflakes. "I'm not?"

"Well. The jumper is a good start but if we're going to really take this town by storm we all need to take it up a notch! And you don't have to bleach your beard, maybe..." Tom trails off as he looks from Chris to James and back again. "James, do you think you could grow a beard in two days?"

"I can't grow a beard in two months." James clutches his cheeks protectively. "And neither can Case."

"I can!" volunteers Barclay, looking at Tom with a sickeningly fond face.

"No, love, remember the last time? I couldn't walk without looking like a duck for a _week _," Tom says, voice dropping to a whisper as he remembers that baby Charlie is at the table.__

__Five out of six of the rest of the people in the restaurant pull terrible faces._ _

__"Tom," Jake says tentatively, "Can we just wear the outfits and serve the specials this year? I'm not getting another snowman tattoo. I didn't even get to show it off after you made me get it last year."_ _

__"You can't show your bum in a diner! It's unsanitary!"_ _

____

* * *

Casey is the first to say what's on all of their minds after they see their costumes in the bright wintry light of the diner.

"Tom, these aren't trousers. These are those whatsemcalleds... leggings, tights. And there's no fucking way I'm wearing them."

"What am I meant to be?" Charlie asks, holding up something brown and furry. "Chewbacca?"

"It's a bloody reindeer!" Tom, exasperated, heaves himself out of the booth and flounces off in a huff. James could swear that a cloud of tinsel floats in his wake.

"It's just... Here Charlie, that's the top. Ask Jake how it goes." Barclay follows after Tom, no doubt to bribe him into a better mood with bacon before they have to open.

Jake looks trepidatious as he opens his bag and digs around inside. He slumps up against Charlie in relief as he pulls out a matching furry brown onesie. "I thought maybe I had to be your ass-half. But we both get to be both halves."

Casey's still looking at his bottoms with a mutinous glare, so Reece pulls him out of the booth and yells back at James and Chris to come along, they can all figure out these trouser-leggings together.

All in all, they do look very festive after they've gotten dressed, but Reece sure as hell won't tell Tom that, in case he gets even bigger ideas for next year.

Casey keeps pulling at his crotch and shifting around like a preschooler who needs a wee break. "I don't think I put these on right."

"There is so much boxers up my asscrack right now, I might die," James agrees.

"You left yours on?" Casey asks him. His hands are still down the front of his green felt bloomers. Reece and Chris each take a step away from him. Casey just growls and pulls his hands out of his pants. He nearly runs one through his hair before apparently thinking better of it and heading to the sink.

Barclay's clearly cheered Tom up, as Tom nods approvingly as he walks down the line, Santa hat perched rakishly on his head and looking every inch the naughty-list elf.

"Why aren't you Mrs. Claus?" James asks him as Tom adjusts James' perky red collar.

Tom sniffs at him. Barclay’s face goes a little pink behind Tom’s back, but Casey thinks he’s the only one to notice.

* * *

Today's special: a partridge and pear pie. ("It's really chicken, but that didn't sound as Christmassy," Barclay tells the waitstaff. "But in case people ask.")

 

**On the third day of Christmas…**

Casey is ready to throw Tom in a tree with the damn partridge.

There's fake snow in his morning coffee, and none of them get a day off because "Santa and the elves work year round to make Christmas a magical time, Casey, you can handle working for two weeks straight."

The thing is, Tom has always been a little bonkers about Christmastime. And Barclay has always been big-time bonkers about Christmastime.

But this year, they are both so over-the-top that Casey feels like he's working in a snow globe and not a neighborhood diner. Even Ruth, his oldest and littlest little old ladyfriend, has singing fa-la-la-las at him and she's _Jewish_. It's all Tom-and-Barclay's fault, and now Casey will probably never get a date with her hot great-granddaughter Ava. Ruth does not take kindly to Casey canceling the Hanukkah meet-cute she’d planned.

_Tom and Barclay will pay._

"Case," Barclay hisses from the kitchen on “3 French Hens Day,” while Tom is taking out the garbage. At least they haven't replaced the rubbish sacks with Santa ones or something. "C'mere. I need your opinion on something important."

Casey raises his eyebrow, because if Barclay's trying to keep a secret from Tom it's got to be something good. He casually leans up against the counter in between the diner and kitchen and gestures for Barclay to continue.

"So you know how the fifth day of Christmas is five golden rings? Well, I've been thinking and I -- " 

Casey cuts him off right the fuck there, because if this is going where he thinks it is, the entire diner will explode from the cute. And cute that isn’t peppermint-flavored.

"Yes. Do it. He will love it and everyone will love it and it will be the most perfect thing that's ever happened to this town."

Barclay seems a little taken aback by Casey's quick response, but once he takes the time to process, his face squinches up like it does when he sees Tom with babies.

"Do you think -- I just worry..." Barclay actually takes off his Santa hat to scrub his hand over his hair like he does when he's especially nervous. "I don't want it to like, ruin Christmas for him forever if he doesn't... I mean, if I fuck it up..."

"Barcs. Mate. I wouldn't tell you this if I didn't believe it, but you two are perfect for each other. Nobody else would put up with your level of obsession with Christmas, and doing it during both of your favorite time of the year will forever cement this as his favorite holiday. He'll love it, and you're crazy if you can't see how much he loves you."

Barclay goes over as red as his hat.

"That's all I'll hear about it, unless you need help with details. I won't listen to you doubt yourself like this, it's so not on," Casey says, reaching over and pinching Barclay's reddened cheeks. "Now get me some Cornish game hens, if we're doing this Christmas special thing again, I'd better know what it tastes like!" He winks. “And I have to get the taste of those turtle doves out of my mouth from yesterday.”

“Some people put chocolate in savory things!” Barclay insists. Again.

“Not chocolate turtle on _turkey_.” Casey almost feels ill just remembering. “Give me a solid game hen any day. And don’t make a pun about birds. I’ve known you too long.” 

"Game hens? Really? Me mum made a wicked roast Cornish hen, give us some," Reece, thankfully oblivious, interjects. He slides onto the seat beside Casey’s. The rest of the boys hit Barclay with full-on puppy eyes, Charlie going so far as to rub his stomach and whine pitifully. Barcs plates up the special of the day for all of them, and they're all tucking in when Tom walks back inside.

"My little elves all in a row." He pats their heads as he walks up the line. "And my helpful reindeer," he adds when Jake gives him the stink-eye.

All in all, Casey might consider waiting a few more days before he throws Tom into the partridge's tree.

 

**On the fifth day of Christmas…**

The fifth day of Christmas dawns grey and cloudy, but it's meant to snow later, so Barclay's optimistic about his chances for a snowy proposal. If all goes as planned, he’ll take Tom on a little window-watching tour of the town square under gentle snow while the rest of the boys set up the diner all Christmassier and romantic-like. There’s a bottle of champagne hidden on the highest shelf of the walk-in above Tom’s head.

The other six boys have already buzzed through the restaurant and quietly told their regulars not to come in between 2 and 3 o'clock because they'll be closed for a private function. ("Which one's proposing to whom?" they all asked. Everyone in town knows by now. Except, hopefully, Tom.)

By 2 o’clock, though, the weather has gone straight to shit. Chris is sitting by the window listening to the radio, which tells them all that there's a freak storm and that everyone who can should stay inside.

Jake and Charlie take advantage of the lack of work by eating all of the eggnog donuts that Barclay made to signify the Five Gold Rings. Barclay hasn't even taken away the platter yet. There's nobody there besides the boys, and James tries to subtly gesture to Barclay that now's as good of a time as any, but because it's James it's anything but subtle.

"What's wrong with you?" Tom asks James. "Are you choking on a donut?”

"Umm. Nope! I'm fine, me. Totally fine! Nothing to worry about here."

Tom sighs and works the till open and shut a few times just to hear it jangle. Although he looks as elfin and Christmassy as ever, his spirits are definitely down. There is little good in a holiday theme if no one is there to enjoy the festivity.

Barclay walks out of the staff toilet not in his stuffed Santa suit, but in a pair of nice black trousers and a crisp button down shirt. All of the boys catch their breath. Charlie elbows Jake in the ribs and they both stop chewing mid-donut. Charlie barely has time to swallow before his eyes get glossy.

Barclay walks directly toward Tom, who has yet to notice him, and when he's about a meter away he stops short, clearing his throat.

Tom looks over his shoulder. "Lords a-leapin' isn't for five more days, love."

There are six frustrated grunts.

"Actually, see... I was going to... I wanted to ask you -- no, that's all wrong. Agh, I'm mucking this all up." 

Barclay's practically wringing his hands by this point, but it seems that all of the stuttering has made Tom realize that something is really going on, because he's stopped fussing with the till and turned fully to face Barclay.

Outside, there's a clatter as one of the bins goes wheeling down the street, propelled by snow and wind. James' forehead hits the tabletop. It _is_ all a bit wrong.

Tom's eyes soften as he looks at Barclay, who's now rubbing a hand over his face and muttering under his breath about _replace the bins!_. 

"What's all this then?" Tom grabs hold of Barclay's hands.

No one says anything. Charlie's already crying, of course, and Jake rubs his furry reindeer back.

When Barclay drops to one knee, though, Tom's face goes completely slack and he looks like he's about to take a step back -- but catches himself.

"Tom. I love you so much. I will always love you. This time of year is when we came together, and each year I love you more and more. I want to never have a Christmas without you," -- and now Charlie's full-on sobbing -- "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Reece blurts, and then there's another thud as he slides under the table in abject mortification.

Tom's eyes are glistening as he smiles down at Barclay, who looks like he's either going to vomit or cry, and he pulls Barclay's hands until he stands up and Tom has to look up into his eyes. "You daft boy. It’s a yes from me."

Barclay roars _YES! COME ON, LAD!_ like he’s at a rugby match and punches the air so violently that it’s lucky no one’s in his path. Tom just drops his head back to laugh and lets Barclay lift him up for a whirl around the diner floor as the other boys applaud.

When they finally stop, Barclay pulls a small box out of his pocket.

"There aren't five," he apologizes as he opens it. "That was prohibitively expensive."

"And I'd look like Flava Flav," Tom agrees.

All of the boys are teary-eyed by this point, but that gets a chuckle out of Chris. As Barclay's shaking hand is sliding the ring onto Tom's finger, they all get up out of their seats and rush the two, enveloping them into one huge hug.

Reece crawls out sheepishly from under the table.

With a _whoosh_ of wind, the blizzard outside slows to a flurry of perfect fat white snowflakes as the street lamps click on. There isn't a single footstep in the white drifts of snow.

"I don't know how the rest of the days of Christmas will ever compare to this," Tom snuffles out. "I've never been happier in my entire life."

Barclay gets a mischievous look in his eye and leans down to whisper something in Tom's ear.

"Oh, that would make me happier," Tom says. "You lot! Outside!"

"And you think I'm unsanitary?" Jake asks. "In the _diner_?"

"No you pervert, we're all going outside. Go. Let's go!"

James and Casey both grumble about how their tights are going to get wet until Jake makes a comment about wet stockings that makes Tom punch him in the kidney. 

They all trudge outside and look in awe at the street, which looks like something out of a Christmas movie. There's silence for a few moments, which is punctuated with a yell and a snowball to the face for Jake.

"What was that for?"

"Making lewd suggestions on my proposal day," Tom sniffs. Casey joins in with a shout, chucking a handful of snow at James, who retaliates by throwing a snowball back at Casey, who ducks so it hits Chris. 

As the rest of the boys explode in a storm of snowballs and red hands, Tom folds himself around Barclay for one warm, sweet kiss.

And then he shoves a handful of snow down his fiance's pants.

"Aren't you cold?" Reece asks Barclay when he emerges from a snowbank, seeking air.

"Yup," Barclay grunts. "But these are my best trousers. Gonna go put on the Santa costume again. And then I'm burying Tom in the snow."

 

**Christmas Eve**

When the boys show up to work on Christmas Eve -- because Tom and Barclay are _evil_ , even when they're so blissfully, stupidly happy -- Tom is waiting with another armload of garment bags.

"What?" James squawks. "But there were 12 days! This is not a day! This would be the thirteenth day!"

Everyone makes noises of agreement, but then Charlie squawks, as he's just opened his bag. "Are these... Why are you giving us suits?"

Tom's eyes sparkle like the tinsel hanging over every surface of the diner. "When better?"

They all ooh and aww appreciatively, Reece a little louder than the others. Just to make up for accidentally saying he’d marry Barcs.

There's a flurry of clothing flying around while they all get dressed, and they look quite dapper once they're all suited and booted, despite the boots being literal snow boots.

"Who's officiating?" Casey asks over the kitchen wall. "Was I supposed to get an internet parson... priest... thing, and forgot?"

"Like we'd let you," Tom snorts. "Ruth's doing it."

"My Ruth?" It's Casey's turn to squawk. "Wait, are you having a Jewish wedding on Christmas Eve?"

"It's not a Jewish wedding. It's just a wedding. You really shouldn't be that surprised, she’s the only person we know who’s a real officiant. She’s also not likely to make a penis joke halfway through the ceremony."

Casey snorts. “You don’t know my Ruth.”

Just then, Casey's ladies all walk in wearing their Sunday best. Ruth toddles over with her mother-of-pearl cane and yanks Tom's arm toward the kitchen, saying she needs to speak with the grooms.

That's when it really sinks in for the other boys. Tom-and-Barclay have always been a diner staple, since each of them started working here, but this. This is _real _. This is _forever _.____

____Charlie is already crying._ _ _ _

____Again._ _ _ _

____All of the customers who have been in throughout the day have stuck around, and finally Barclay comes to stand near the register. Tom's by the back door, and walks up to a drummed version of the wedding march, because of course they're sticking with the theme, twelve drummers drumming._ _ _ _

____Jake and James join in as an impromptu two lords a-leaping, but it's not the same effect as having ten. Less destructive, though, probably._ _ _ _

____Ruth launches into a speech that none of them can really hear. They're too busy watching and waiting for the big moment. Ruth seems to know it, so she peters out and asks them for their vows._ _ _ _

____Barclay already gave Tom his ring, so he kisses his knuckles after he speaks. "On the best day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..."_ _ _ _


End file.
